Well.  Lots has transpired since I last posted.  My mother died and thus endeth my monthly trips to California to look after her.  She was 93 and of course I knew it would come...but geez you are never really ready.  I miss her.  We were close and she was exuberant, curious, optimistic, and in a constant quest for knowledge til the end. 

So now, back to work.  The gallery where the show will be was very kind in moving the date to February so I have time to finish.  It's good to be back in the paint.  The work has become looser and freer.  Nothing wrong with that.  More relaxed maybe.  But there is lots to do.  I'm aiming for 12 large pieces, 12 half size, and 12 plus little ones.  All arched, church like, in an homage to nature and inspired by the droughts, floods, and storms that have caught our attention.  Finally.

Peace.

We have been lucky with rain this summer....the trees live! 
No taking it for granted though.  Only have to look northward to see drought and southeastward to see flood.  And still we drive big cars and waste everything.

However.  I'm back to speak to the project I'm wallowing in.  (In which I'm wallowing).  I am now well on with my trees/nature on arched window like wood.  There will be twelve large ones at the end....for me recalling the books of hours that I have seen reproduced in books on medieval art.  There is always that startling blue and some sort of reference to the common thread of man and nature.  There will also be six of a half size, and another six or more of small ones maybe devoted to insects.  I'm excited about this....I love to work in a theme, a thread and follow it along.

Hot in the studio of course.  Mostly can only work in the mornings.  And then there are still the monthly trips to Calif to see after my mom.   But it's like concentrated orange juice.  It works.

Peace.

Houston has returned to a rainful summer.  No complaints here.

Paintings of trees, nature, nurture continue to be my focus for now although I guess I finally really see how out of the loop I am, feeling more and more like an outsider artist, because of what I paint and how I do it.  I've been painting since 1964, and due to life's ups and downs never quite finished my art education.  Although for two decades I taught it.  Life is funny.

  I'm working on a solo show for January, 2013....yet I sometimes dream about having a yard sale with the work that is still hanging around in the studio and the gallery.  I think maybe many people feel this way at some point.  Just a little tired, maybe.  Still flying to California once a month to look after my mom....guess I feel a little disjointed.  Ah, crap.  Just venting.  Summer blahs.

Peace.

Tree hugger me

Ah.  After turning my back momentarily on still life and anonymous people, I find I am embracing trees.  Tree hugger me.  But there is a reason.  We went thorough such a drought from hell last year, that Houston lost tens of thousands of trees.  Pine, magnolia, oak, all kinds.  The Lost Pines of Bastrop burned black and seared until there was nothing left.  And like a lot of people who count on nature to lift their spirits in these difficult times, I found myself in something of a deep blue funk.  Trees are being replanted and for that we are supportive and grateful.  But, it will be a generation before our parks are restored to what they were.  There are, to be sure, lots and lots of trees in this very green town, but now there are also many empty places in between. And the rain has come back.
So.  Painting trees, fish, insects and birds is restoring me.  Looking for serenity I guess.  And it's working.

Peace. 

concessions to getting older

Don't know what happened to winter here in the bottom of Texas....we didn't get the freezing temps to kill off the mosquitoes....oh well, the upside is that the plants are happy.  And I'm still in the studio painting without gloves.

I guess I'm back to painting a few people after thinking I was back in love with still life.  Never say never. There is still much to be resolved in the switch from oil to acrylic.  Still not my favorite medium, still trying to make friends with it, still struggling.  I am finding that the wetter and faster I paint the happier I am.  What I really miss is the Liquin I used to use with oil.  What a lovely slider that stuff was, if only it didn't make me sick.  Just a wee bit of petroleum gunk in it.  Guess that's really not a good thing to breathe.

Getting older is finally interrupting my consistent bravado and confidence.  It truly is getting harder to stretch good size canvases.  Not that I'm giving up, just swearing more and running achy fingers under the warm tap when I come inside.  AND....here's the big one:  I just got a three wheel bike.  OK, actually it is a kind of tricycle, but it has a big basket in the back and I can carry stuff.  I had to give up my regular bike when I had a knee replacement....and then lost all confidence in balance.  So, what the hell, I'm now going to be that old lady zipping around on the red three wheeler.

Peace.

still life out of style

Whatever the crazy world has been up to, I've been in the studio making still life paintings like they never went out of style.  And they did.  But what the hell.  For me it's like knitting, not that I do that, not that there's anything wrong with that, but working on still life makes me ok with the world while I'm doing it.
Like there is only so much you can stand of politics, bad news, and crumby weather.  Still lives make me ok.  Better than booze or pills, I say.  I mean, the props just sit there and give stability to the situation.  Unless they are Clementine oranges, in which case I'm trying to paint them fast before they change their form and start to shrivel.  At least I'm not painting sides of beef like Soutine did.

Peace.

studio copper pot

little satisfactions

The days grow longer already.  Perhaps more noticeable in the places I inhabit....Texas and California.  It's nice not to be driving in the dark at 5pm.  Little satisfactions.  The structure of bare trees made visible by the season; the low slant of afternoon light like a spotlight on humble things giving them life; people taking turns at a non working signal;  smiles from strangers; falling asleep with a book on my lap.

I promise I'm not about to break out into song....but it's good to not be rushing around so much and take in the view, the moment, the breath ....right now.

Peace.

soothing still life

New Starts.  Painted over a partly done canvas and did a large still life.....something I could control, to bring in the new year.  Combining the hills of California and some objects in the studio.  Objects I've painted for many years.  Old friends.  Objects standing in for people.  An avoidance of emotion.  A way to deal with the death of a friend, the end of a year, the prospect of more drought, the calendar turning pages faster than I can count.

Painting soothes the soul, erases the worry, allows my mind to wander in small jerks forward and backward without edit.

More still life for a while I think.

Peace.